


Star Wars Episode IX: The battle for the Force

by pretentiouslittlebitch



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Ben Solo Lives, Episode IX rewrite, F/M, Female Gaze, Feral Rey (Star Wars), Fix-It, Fix-It of Sorts, Force Bond (Star Wars), I sure as fuck dont know, Kylo Ren Redemption, Leia Dies, Minor Original Character(s), Original Character(s), POV Multiple, Post-Star Wars: The Last Jedi, Redeemed Ben Solo, Sharing a Bed, Tros never happened, a bunch of sexual tension, both for rey and ben, chewie is the father figure that rey needs, grey jedi (eventually), i guess i do kinda care about canon, i tried giving everyone arks lets see how that goes, implied rose/finn/poe bc they all deserve happiness, its appreciating chewie hours folks, jj and terrio didn't bother so why should i, join me at my rian johnson shrine, kylo loves her so much damn, lando shows up, or rather FEMALE GAZE i yell at 3 am while banging pots and pans together, she's so angry bless her heart, so much pining, the Force works in mysterious ways, the author doesn't know the lore so she just makes shit up, there is only one blanket, uncle chewie is being very caring and protective, why? it's the force, will i end up writing smut for this
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:55:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22411363
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pretentiouslittlebitch/pseuds/pretentiouslittlebitch
Summary: Where, exactly, are the Supreme Leader’s loyalties? Good question, Kylo chuckled dryly. Where were they? Definitely not Snoke’s perverse vision for the Galaxy, he knew that much. Definitely not the Resistance, either. All those self-righteous, unbending people who couldn’t see the world in anything but black and white… For all he cared, they all could… no, that wasn’t exactly right. Was his loyalty to his own self-interest? The thought made Kylo snort to himself. No, he didn’t care what happens to him. His prior actions made sure that none of it be good, and his time with the… voices in his head… That. That made sure he wasn’t capable of wanting much, either. Except for… No, he wouldn’t think of her.Written whilst praying at my Rian Johnson shrine - join me and let's say amen. I choose to pretend a terrible tragedy happened and they didn't make an Episode IX, so here is the movie I would have wanted to see. Reylo-centric (fight me). I also make up a lot of stuff because I don't know the lore. Also fight me.
Relationships: Kylo Ren/Rey, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 4
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

The forest was in flames. Kylo Ren felt the heat on his bare face. The soot from the burning ruins was etching itself permanently inside his lungs. He guessed he deserved it. The pain in his chest only fed his power with the Dark Side of the Force. He refused to think about the source of it. It was just the physical exertion. And the air of this godforsaken planet, whose atmosphere was just a little too acidic for a human to breathe comfortably. A flash in his peripheral vision alerted him of an approaching attacker, and he immediately stabbed with his pulsating lightsaber, without turning around. The sound of a falling body informed him that he hit the mark. He breathed the burning air into his lungs. Exhaled. Bared his teeth. Spun around, and plunged his lightsaber right into the chest of another Jossar royal guard that approached him. His silver helmet glittered against the snow as he fell.

Last one. The Supreme Leader Ren was standing in the biting cold in the middle of a forest clearing full of dead bodies. The crackling flames in the distance informed him that at that very moment, fire was devouring the nearby settlement. He had instructed his troops not to harm any of the Jossar villagers, just to destroy their homes. That would send a powerful enough message to their King. He hoped they wouldn’t slip. The new galaxy needed lawful citizens, alive. Order, not death. Control of the pain. Yes, that is exactly what was needed. Panting, he looked down at the man he had just struck down. He was lying down, a hole burned through his chest. His robes were strewn across the snow, silver on white. Death looked cold. It also looked peaceful. The dead Jossarian’s face, humanoid, except for the silver eyes, all pupils, no eyelids, peeking through the helmet, looked calm, the way Ren had never felt. Hadn’t felt … since… Fleeting touch. Bare skin to bare skin, a brush of fingertips.

Kylo shooed the thought away, violently, physically shaking his head like a dog that just got out of the water. He felt like a dog, all his life, serving one master after another. Why did his killing his latest master didn’t feel like it liberated him? Why didn’t he feel like a free wild beast, just more lost than before? No matter. With that, he moved towards the small hut in the woods with silver engravings on the door, which, he knew, hid in a fifth dimension the Jossar royal palace. He just hoped that the leader of this planet, whose inhabitants worshiped the Force without ever attempting to get into the affairs of Force users, would pledge allegiance to the First Order. Why did Jossarians even have that much influence in the Galaxy? He was guessing he was about to find out. With that, he opened the door of the hut, and entered the Jossar royal palace’s throne room, with his Majesty sitting on the throne, calmly, unblinkingly, in his crown that appeared to be a continuation of his silver hair, intricately braided, a tradition oddly similar to Alderaan. Seems that the reminders of the Empire’s crimes would never fade into oblivion. Neither would First Order’s. Kylo’s sense of guilt felt like steel in his stomach, tuning out his connection to the Dark Side. He wished Darth Vader would talk to him. He wished Snoke would, even though it would undoubtedly blind him with pain, until nothing remained, just that sensation. He missed that oblivion and hated himself for it. His lightsaber, still on, cracked in his gloved hand, and he moved it up the hilt, closer to the crossguard, felt the heat of the weapon, up to the point it almost burned. At this moment, the King spoke.

\- What do you, you broken soul, want on this planet? – the King spoke calmly, almost coldly, yet his words burned into Kylo Ren’s mind like molten lava, - your path lies not here, and you know it.

\- I, - he spoke, choosing his words carefully, dragging air into his lungs through gritted teeth, - want your kind to stand behind the First Order to bring the rule of law to the Galaxy…your Majesty, - he added, as an afterthought, extinguishing his lightsaber.

\- Is that what you think you can do, young Solo? – the tone of Ja’ast was borderline mocking.

The King’s tone had power in it. Kylo Ren couldn’t understand what it was, and why he, the one who barreled through this planet’s defenses with an army, suddenly felt intimidated. 

\- Your Majesty, do not call me by that name, unless you don’t fear… - he paused, unsure if what he was going to say next counted as bluffing or not, – consequences.

Rage burned in his chest. Ren turned on his lightsaber, took a couple of steps closer to the King so that the tip of his lightsaber almost touches the ruler’s throat. He took another, slightly painful breath in. A painful cough escaped his throat and echoed through the room. He then became painfully aware of his surroundings fading in power, as his cough was mirrored in someone else’s form, sitting on the floor with her back to him behind Ja’ast’s throne. And she turned around, quickly, like a startled animal, looking straight into his eyes. Rey. The Force stands still for a second, and the air stops burning Kylo’s throat. Then his Majesty Ja’ast laughs.

\- And who are you, young Solo, to come into my home, killing my people, to tell me not call things what they are, while asking for my help?

A pair of hazel eyes bores into his soul, as he utters a choked “I … I am nobody”. The air burns again in his throat. Kylo Ren lowers his lightsaber and extinguishes it. The Force connection breaks. He knows he lost. He never even had a chance at winning. Hux will be at his throat later, asking to destroy Jossar with a Star Destroyer, to send a message. Well, he would show him. He doesn’t understand that ruling through blood isn’t a worthy goal. The ginger never seemed like a visionary, anyway.

Kylo Ren turns around, and leaves, like a chastised boy. In his leave, he hears from Ja’ast “We shall meet soon, under vastly different circumstances, young Solo.” He doesn’t bother to dwell too much on those words. Far away, across the stars, Rey is left alone on the floor of her shared dormitory on Ajan Kloss, with the taste of acid on her tongue, and smoke in her lungs. The ancient texts on her knees suddenly feel very heavy. BB-8 beeps worriedly. “There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no ignorance, there is…” “There is definitely ignorance,” – she thinks to herself. It’s exactly what she feels. Brown eyes, full of passion and rage seem to still be staring into her. She wonders what unfortunate soul he was threatening, and why he stopped. “Nobody”. The son of Leia Organa and Han Solo. Supreme Leader. Nobody.

Her thoughts are interrupted by Finn, politely knocking on her door.

\- Leia Organa calls for a new strategic meeting. She asked me to bring you, - he says.

\- I’m coming, - she says.

Rey stands up, and walks out of the door, with BB-8 beeping and rolling after her. The texts stay near her bed, abandoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess this chapter isn't very long, but oh well. Welcome to my Episode IX.


	2. Chapter 2

Finn leads Rey through the maze that is the rebel base on Ajan Kloss. She doesn’t really ask where, exactly. Her thoughts stay far away from the planet she is currently on. BB-8 rolls at the same pace as they walk, silently. “I’m nobody”, he said. She can’t get that simple word out of her head. Something tells her that it was said mostly for her to hear, and not to the person Ren was threatening with his lightsaber. She tries to keep her emotions at bay – sadness, anger, fear… (“Fear is the path to the dark side” – echoes through her brain, though she can’t really recall how she knows the saying). The fear that he – Ben, Kylo, whatever he is, is plotting something sinister gnaws at her. The anger and hurt she felt that day in the throne room – why didn’t he choose the light, why didn’t he choose… her. Some other feeling that she tries really hard to ignore gnaws at her. She tries to clear her mind by focusing on her steps as a sort of meditation substitute, but she is woken from her reverie by Finn.

\- Rey! Rey, it’s over here.

She turns to see him on the other end of the corridor she walked through without noticing. Kriff. BB-8 beeps concerningly at her side, and starts rolling towards Finn, as if leading the way to the silly human who was lost in her silly thoughts. Rey follows. She has no clue as to which part of the base they are in. She hopes Finn will help her get back. He is infinitely patient with her and all the “Jedi stuff” lately, excusing all of her bullshit before the rest of the rebels, who seem to be getting tired of her endlessly lifting things, and then putting them back down, and lifting people and then putting them back down… Sometimes accidentally. She tries meditating, daily, but ends up more frustrated after each session. She knows that Finn’s defending her deepens the mistrust that some Resistance members have towards him, a deflected Stormtrooper. The only thing that helps is that he is close with the universally popular Poe Dameron. The star pilot, the hotshot and heartthrob. Both are close with Rose, who is only known as the sister of a war hero, but whose kindness and warm nature make her well-liked nevertheless. Rey isn’t very sure as to what the relationship between either of them, let alone the three of them. She doesn’t prod. She doesn’t even care that much, not really, apart from the fact that their proximity makes the void inside of her a little colder and a little more painful. She is happy when she sees them happy, she really is. She isn’t really jealous, either. She isn’t. Rey realizes that she is, rather, envious. She just wants have somebody’s shoulder to rest her head on affectionately. Someone to hold her hand. Someone…not someone specific, she thinks. Maybe someone loving, and gentle… And maybe tall. She mentally kicks herself when someone specific does pop up in her head. She digs her nails into her palms until it almost hurts.

\- Rey, are you alright?

A gentle, but authoritative voice snaps her back to reality.

\- Yes, General Organa, - she manages to get the words out of her mouth before the older woman suspects anything.

Rey had heard of the time that General saved herself from the vacuum of space during the ill-fated encounter with the First Order. Evidently, the General can use the Force, even though she never received any formal Jedi training. If only Leia Organa knew what she was thinking about. Rey wonders briefly what her reaction would be. Would she be angry? Would she be disappointed in her? Would she be disappointed in him, again? Would she, and that somehow feels worse, feel that there is still hope?

\- She has been a bit out of it all day, General, - Finn says, always coming to her defense, - the last month has been tough on everyone.

That bit was true. Short on supporters, and short ships, and short on everything.

\- Yes, I know, - Leia’s voice sounds tired, and she seems even thinner and frailer than before. It seems like she hadn’t been sleeping a lot.

Rey suddenly realizes that the three of them are the only people in the unfamiliar room. It looks like it used to be a standard dormitory, but it only has one bed, instead of the usual two bunks, a desk, in front of which the General is sitting, a wall full of galactic maps, a bunch of datapads, a chest of drawers, and a stand with some medicine. She is in the General’s headquarters, if they even can be called that. The room’s austerity just reminds her of how dire everything has gotten.

\- Why … are we meeting here? – Rey asks tentatively, - and adds, hurriedly, - General?

\- Call me Leia, please, I am sick of formalities - her voice is kind, and a little sad.

Rey realizes that, as much as she is a Resistance icon, she probably feels very lonely, with nearly no one to turn to and call her by her first name. Except for Chewbacca. She thinks of Vice Admiral Holdo and her sacrifice. She can’t imagine living to just see everyone close to you go. Being simply alone doesn’t sound as painful as that.

\- It’s because I wanted to have a private conversation which could be a bit … sensitive with some Resistance members, - Leia answers Rey’s question, - I don’t want to sow more disagreement among our ranks.

\- I see, - Rey says, though she is still decidedly confused.

\- Some people in the Resistance don’t trust you because of the fact that you use the Force, so this had to be private, - Leia clarifies, - I know you haven’t gotten much training in terms of the Force, though you are decidedly very powerful …and I wish I could offer you some instruction, or at least something, but…

\- A lightsaber would be nice, - Rey says, dryly, trying to make a joke. It comes out harsher than she expected. Leia flinches.

\- I am afraid I do not have control over the Force, Rey, I’m sorry. And I don’t know how to help you fix Luke’s lightsaber. But I have something to ask of you.

\- Ask of me? I am a member of the Resistance… - Rey says but doesn’t finish the thought.

\- It will require you using the Force, - Leia says, - and I know that you don’t yet have full control of your abilities…

Rey’s stomach sinks with an uncertain feeling of dread and anxiety, but she manages to nod.

\- I will do my best to help, Leia, you know that.

\- I do. I need you to help convince a planet to join our side. The people on Jossar are Force-worshippers, though they do not use it themselves. I have been in communication with their King, Ja’ast. It is said that his kind have priests who see the future, and he asked about you, as the last Jedi.

Jossar sounds familiar, though Rey can’t tell why. She had never been off Jakku before she fled it with Finn, and her knowledge of the star systems was lacking due to the fact that Plutt didn’t very much care if his scavengers, or, rather, slaves, had a formal education.

\- Ja’ast wants you to prove your allegiance to the Light, from what I understood, - Leia adds, - so you would come to Jossar, use the Force to the best of your capabilities, and get us a major ally. Finn and Chewie would come with you, I know you trust each other. Take the droid. Take Threepio too. You are leaving immediately.

\- Yes, General… Leia, - says Rey.

\- Yes, General, - Finn echoes.

\- You can call me Leia as well, Finn, - she smiles kindly, - Take the Millenium Falcon. Chewie is waiting for you there. May the Force be with you.

With that, Leia lets them know that the conversation is over, and leans back on her chair, tiredly. They walk out, silently, and head towards the docks, Finn leading the way, her and BB-8 following.

*****

Once the Millennium Falcon leaves Ajan Kloss and goes into hyperspeed to reach Jossar as soon as possible, which is a standard day, the small group of rebels splits to tend to their duties. C3-PO waddles on his metal legs, double-checking the star map. Chewie stands up from the controls to check that all the systems are functioning properly. Finn gets a call on his holo from Poe and goes into the back of the ship to answer. BB-8 just sits in a corner, like a small tired animal. Rey wonders why droids behave so … alive, sometimes. It seems that the human need for companionship bleeds into robotics, too. Chewbacca returns to the cockpit and when he sees Rey still sitting in the co-pilot’s chair, just staring at the faint traces of distant star systems going by, lets out a roar of disapproval. Yes, he is right, she should probably go and rest.

She goes to one of the bunk beds in the back of the Falcon. Finn is nowhere to be found. She sits down and stares into spaces tiredly. Prove her allegiance to the Light? What does that even mean? Apparently, it’s not just the Jedi who are chronically vague. Her time with Luke Skywalker didn’t do much to clarify what are the Sides of the Force and how to deal with them. She thought about how clear it was that the Resistance was on the right side of history, and the First Order wasn’t. A military dictatorship and universal good are, generally, not synonymous. But that was all she could offer. When it came to her powers, it never felt like a choice was there to begin with. She just grabbed onto what ability the Force urged her to use at that exact moment. It was like using a weapon, in a way. It’s the person who wields it who decides what it’s used for.

But then again, Kylo… Kylo Ren was unmistakably with the Dark. His presence felt like a weight in the Force, like an ink stain spreading on a page. He was just … angry, and when he used the Force, it seemed like he did it from a place of pain. She felt it too vividly any time they were in each other’s vicinity. She … she realized, with a strange calm, that she did the same thing. The thought left a cold imprint on her heart. Is drawing on your pain to fight the Dark side? To fight injustice? To… She doesn’t like dwelling on the anxiety that the thought produces. She draws on the Force a little to will herself to sleep, without bothering to take off her clothes. The quiet hum of it in the back of her head calms her down, and she drifts off into nothingness.

She wakes because there is someone in the bed with her. It’s calm and warm, and she feels like closing her eyes again, before the degree to which the situation is unusual dawns on her. She isn’t quite sure of where she is for a second – the Falcon around her feels distant. “Finn? Why… are you…” – she starts. Her thought process feels like wading through a fog. The other person is lying on their side, facing her, staring at her intently. A pale face, shadows under the eyes, dark hair that flows onto the pillow. She looks at it from under her barely-open eyelids. What?

\- You aren’t Finn?! – her eyes shoot open in shock as she realizes just who, exactly, she was in bed with. Their Force bond hums around them, like static. She expects him to snap. Somehow, he doesn’t. She sits up, abruptly. He props himself onto his elbow and raises himself up to lean on the headboard that her bunk on the Falcon didn’t have before. He is, thank stars, wearing a dark sleeveless shirt. She fixates on his arm that he props himself up with for a second, and is overcome by a desire to hide her face into her arms, or maybe just yell into space. She does neither.

\- No, I am not the tr…Finn, - he says, and she can’t tell if it’s through gritted teeth or not. He says it very calmly. Strangely calmly. Rey realizes it’s because he is holding his emotions back. Kylo, Ben, HE, he noticeably swallows.

\- What… what the kriff are you doing in my bed? – she says, really sharply, without raising her voice.

\- It appears I _was_ sleeping here. Instead of …Finn, - his voice is cold. The way he says “Finn” sounds like it means ten different things. She genuinely doesn’t know how to react. It’s just too strange.

\- I don’t sleep with Finn, - she offers, dumbly. The phrasing isn’t ideal, and the kriffing Supreme Leader is in the same bed with her, and yet she can’t shake off a strange sense of calm that she feels. It’s both as if her mind suddenly went blank, and the empty space inside her heart suddenly … disappeared.

\- Right, - his face suddenly displays a million different emotions in reaction to that statement. Rey doesn’t want to dwell on any of them.

There is a long pause. Neither of them says anything. Rey feels a surge of chills all over her body whenever his eyes drift to her and linger for just a little too long. She avoids looking at him, choosing to sit on her bed, cross-legged, and pick at the sheets absent-mindedly. She is very aware of her entire body. It feels mostly awkward, like she can’t find a place for herself. She brings her hands to her eyes and rubs them, pressing the palms into the eyeballs, until it almost hurts, just to affirm that she isn’t dreaming, and groans.

\- This is a very bad time, - she manages to say.

\- Yeah.

They stay silent for a moment. Rey yawns.

\- Rey, - he says softly, - I…You probably won’t like this, but… I think we should both go to sleep.

\- Why… - her breath catches in her throat, why …should I let you sleep, calmly, when…

\- Don’t, - he pleads, - don’t say it. I _feel_ your sleep deprivation. How long since you actually slept?

\- Are you reading my mind again? – Rey knows he isn’t, she’d feel it, but she hates to admit that he is right. She hasn’t been able to sleep for more than a couple of hours for weeks. It’s always either the work she has to do for the Resistance, or her thoughts, that are never silent. Lately, it’s mostly the thoughts.

\- I wouldn’t do that again, without your permission, I am truly sorry, - he offers. It’s sincere. Rey feels tired, and she can’t really do anything. Being awake feels a bit overwhelming.

\- Okay.

She sees him breathe a sigh of relief, and she wonders why. He doesn’t seem like _the enemy_ in that moment, just like a tired man. She suddenly feels in the Force that he, too, hasn’t slept, in weeks. At all. How is he even walking?

\- I … I meditate. And nap, - he answers.

Rey’s face shows indignation because she knows she didn’t say it out loud. She also doesn’t voice just how strange it is to think of the grown man, the Supreme Leader, the terror of the galaxy, taking naps.

\- You _directed_ that at me, I couldn’t _not_ hear it, - he says, half-accusatory, half-apologetic.

Rey doesn’t answer that. She sighs, and lies down, crawling under the blanket. To her horror, she realizes that somehow, the blending of their surroundings extended to that sheet of fabric. It now looks like two fabrics fused together, a dark, silky one bleeding into the coarser standard-issue beige blanket of the Falcon. Under it, she can’t really escape him – he only wears underwear, the same color as his shirt, and his long legs take up all the space.

Her breath catches again, she jumps, startled, throws the blanket off, and says, as calmly as she can:

\- I am not sleeping under the same blanket with you.

\- Fine, - he chokes out, and relief floods the Force bond around them. She can't tell if it's coming from him, or from her.

Rey chucks it in his direction, in a renounced way, and curls up on her side of the bed, looking away from him, into the Falcon’s dormitory. Finn isn’t there, thankfully. She feels him shift behind her, lying down. They stay like that for a while. It’s quiet. Rey feels her almost drifting away, but the temperature on the Falcon suddenly seems to drop, for whatever kriffing reason, and she stars almost shivering, and curls up even more. She feels overwhelmed, because he is there, presumably sleeping, and every cell in her body is aware of it, and why is it so cold on the kriffing Falcon, even when she is fully clothed…

\- Take the blanket, - he says, sitting up, - I _feel_ how cold you are.

For some reason, she snaps, because it’s too much, it’s too strange, and the calm of this interaction gnaws at her brain like a persistent itch, because she shouldn’t feel so at peace in that very moment, yet she does.

\- I… don’t need _your help._

\- Take it, Rey, don’t be so _kriffing_ stubborn all the time. I know you don’t think so, but _I am not, and never will be_ your enemy.

\- Really? Ruling the universe through terror, using the Dark side of the Force, not my enemy? – she turns, sitting up to face him, and he turns out to be sitting closer than she thought, so she can almost feel his breath on her face. She feels heat rushing to her cheeks, and her heartbeat accelerating.

\- You didn’t seem so against my help in the throne room, - he sounds hurt, - don’t say it was just because you thought I was going to turn.

\- So, what if it was, _Kylo_? – her voice is acidic. He winces, and she corrects herself, because of course she does, - _Ben_.

\- Good and evil aren’t so clear cut, Rey, _please_ understand it, this is larger than the Dark and the Light, _this_ … is everything, - he pleads. Rey is too scared to ask what “this” is.

\- Last time I saw you, _you_ were threatening someone, - she throws it at him, and moves closer, childishly poking her pointer finger into his chest, with force, just to make him _feel it._

\- You have no idea what you are talking about, - his hand catches her wrist, and she _shivers_ , - I don’t owe you an insight into my plans, because we are, unfortunately, still on opposing sides of a war, even though, - he emphasizes again, - _I am not your enemy_.

\- Why do you act like you hate all I am sometimes, then?! You call me a nobody, you say no one would _ever_ care about me because of it; and then say you are nobody to someone you were threatening, _you_ , Ben Solo, Skywalker, kriffing Organa! – she tries to wrestle her hand from his grip, but he holds it tight.

\- I care about you! Don’t you see how we are two sides of the same coin?! A legacy, and a nobody, and yet no one ever _cared_ enough about either of us to be there and protect us from someone in power abusing us, using our powers for their own gain!

\- Your _family_ did, Ben! Your mother, and your father, whom you… - she tries to wrestle away again, - you are hurting me!

At those words Ben lets go of her hand. Rey’s instinct screams at her to move back, and get some _space,_ but somehow she doesn’t, doesn’t really want to.

\- Both were away, all the time, and neither supported me when I showed Force-sensitivity, they were _alienated_ , Rey, scared even!

\- And you didn’t even _try_ to explain it to them, ask _Luke_ to explain…- she desperately tries to find something to do with her hands, almost touching his chest again, because he’s there, broad, solid, too close; she ends up sort of waving them in between their faces, clenching and unclenching her fists.

\- Luke, he tried to _kill_ me, as a teenager, Rey. Kill me, my uncle, - his voice breaks, and Rey realizes that his voice is really close to tears.

She doesn’t find a reply to that. She opens and closes her mouth, and feels her own throat tighten as if from tears. In the end, in spite of everything, she touches his face with her palm compassionately, stroking his cheek, and feeling the moisture of his tears on her fingers. The silence of the moment is overbearing, the Force bond tightened past all limits, and it almost feels like ringing instead of static. Her heart beats in her temples. Her breathing is quick and shallow, and so is his.

Suddenly, she hears Chewie roar at the door of the dormitory. Is she dressed and can he enter, because they are arriving at Jossar.

\- Just one second, - she chokes out.

The Force bond cuts off abruptly. She finds herself with her fingers touching the metal wall of the Falcon. She lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

When she comes out of the dormitory, Chewie asks if she was having bad dreams, because he heard her screaming. “Something like that”, - she replies. The old Wookie roars compassionately and pulls her into a warm, wooly embrace. It feels good to have someone care about her. More than one someone. Rey wonders what it is that he heard. She also wonders if Chewie misses Ben. She also wonders if he would think of her as a traitor if he had witnessed the scene that took place between them.

\- You smell weird, - Chewie roars, when he lets go.

\- Weird how?

\- Like… like Leia and Han’s home on Chandrila.

-That is… weird, - Rey replies.

To herself, she wonders, following Chewie to the cockpit, how come the Supreme Leader uses scents that remind him of his childhood home, and what that means. Below them, Jossar’s atmosphere glows in the rays of its sun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for everyone who read this! I wrote this instead of working on important real-life things so there ya go. Also, I'm awful at steadily and regularly working on large projects, but I promise that I am trying my best to write this, and make the chapters longer.


	3. Chapter 3

The Falcon lands on Jossar in a flurry of snow. When the door opens, and Rey steps out, before Chewie, or Finn, or anyone does, she is immediately thrown into reality and all thoughts about him leave her mind. The snow is falling in large snowflakes, and shining like gemstones in the light of the giant Jossarian sun rising like a red flower above the horizon. It’s cold, and the frozen air burns the back of her throat. Rey isn’t wearing appropriate clothing and her tunic doesn’t even cover her arms, which sting with the frost and redden a little bit. Despite all that, she feels mesmerized. She wants to stay in the beauty of the moment forever. It feels like the complete opposite of her life on Jakku – cold, instead of scorching heat; snow, not sand. People who care about her, not heart-wrenching solitude. She tilts her head back, closes her eyes and just feels the Force moving around her, connecting everything and everyone on this planet, moving like a stream, forming small whirlwinds of snow.  
Chewie lets out a disapproving roar, and Rey snaps back to reality. The Wookie shakes his head, and throws onto Rey’s arms some kind of a woolen cape with long sleeves, that drapes all the way down to her knees. It’s grey, and fluffy on the inside, and with smoother hairs on the outside. It looks a bit dusty from lying around wherever it was on the Falcon, but otherwise, it’s the most beautiful garment Rey has ever worn. She finds herself fighting back tears.

  
\- Thank you, - she manages to say.

  
Chewie roars, as if to say that never mind, it was lying around anyways. Rey desperately wants to ask whom it belongs to, but she knows the answer. It has Leia’s Force signature all over it. It feels almost like a sacrilege, to wear something that belonged to the General, a war hero, but she guesses that it doesn’t matter, because Leia would have forced her to wear it anyway. That wonderful, strong, unbending woman with a heart of gold. Rey can’t understand how she is holding on, knowing everything that he did. What would she think if she knew that he is now a constant presence in her thoughts? Rey is startled by the realization that this is the first time she has admitted this to herself. She feels drawn to him, and he seems drawn to her, like opposing charges are drawn to each other. For a moment she wants to scream to the Force and the entire galaxy. Why, why, why, why, why. Why him.

  
For the millionth time, Rey jolts out of her thoughts – the sound of the Falcon’s bay doors closing is enough to snap her back to reality. Right. Jossar. Their King. Prove she is on the side of the Light. Let’s go. BB-8 and Threepio stay in the ship. Their small group starts moving, led by a human man in silver robes with a hood that cover his face. Rey missed his arrival. She wonders if she should ask for his name, but stays silent, treading through the snow, a couple of steps behind Finn.

  
The Force feels weird on Jossar. Dense, almost viscous, it moves slowly, and Rey is barely able to gather anything about the planet from it. Operating in it feels much like wading through snow. Information she gathers feels like it’s coming from far away, muffled. Rey is hit with a wave of nausea. Fire. Death. Destruction. The woods around Rey feel soaked with sorrow. So many dead bodies. And a familiar force signature to them. Who…? When the group reaches a clearing, Rey sees the whole battlefield with her own eyes. Dark silver and red mix in the snow, contrasted by the burnt pitch-black trees. The fight is over, but it still echoes in the raw violence of corpses staining the pristine snow with their blood. Dread fills her entire being, because she knows who drained the life out of these poor unfortunate souls. Ren. For a second, Rey can almost see him, swinging his cross-guarded crackling red lightsaber, hair swinging around his face, contrasting with his pale skin, robes swirling like dancers’ dresses. A dance of death. Her breath catches – it’s beautiful, but deadly, and the acidic atmosphere of Jossar and the smell of rotting flesh add up into a macabre symphony of sensations. She forgets all for a second – the vision of the battle gets stronger, more real, darker, like blood staining a white shirt. Suddenly, she feels a guard drive a blade into her. It’s unexpected, and for a moment she just stares at Kylo, and meets his eyes. A scream leaves her chest, and she collapses into the snow, a pair of dark, sad eyes being the last thing to leave her mind before it goes blank.

  
When she wakes up, he is standing above her. She sits up on the bed where she was lying, abruptly, taking in the surroundings, trying to figure out where she is. The room is unfamiliar, but it doesn’t seem like anything that belongs to the First Order. Her bed is covered with the fur of some animal, the room is small, mostly grey stone, and pale light is streaming through a window.  
\- What… - she attempts to speak, but the moment she raises his eyes to meet Ben’s she is immediately dumbfounded. They look red, and watery, and it looks like he was crying.

  
\- I… - his breath is uneven, and speaking seems like a struggle, - I … felt you die.  
He chokes out those words almost accusatorily, and when he is finished, he takes in a couple of breaths, as if to calm himself down. And then he kneels, and rests his arms on the bedframe, hiding his face. Rey wants to throw a jab at him, something along the lines of “Apparently, the Dark side of the Force is quite inaccurate, seeing that I am alive”, but he looks so miserable, and some of the emotional storm inside of him seeps through to her side of the bond so she decides not to. And finds herself quite unable to decide what to do.  
\- Why do you care if I die? – she asks, even though she half-knows the answer.  
\- I thought we were past that, - his voice is muffled by his hands still covering his face.  
\- I… You are right. I’m sorry.

  
In spite of herself, she reaches her hand out, and buries it in his dark curls, stroking his head in a way that she hopes will be soothing. He raises his face up and just stares into her eyes, and it feels like he can see her soul, and her soul wants to be seen. It’s a calm, intimate moment, stolen in the middle of a galactic war. He reaches out his arms, and pulls her towards the edge of the bed. When she sits closer to him, and puts her legs down, he envelops her in a tight hug, pressing his head into her collarbone. Rey freezes up for a moment, because she should push him away, shouldn’t she; he represents all that she is relentlessly fighting against. In a way, he also represents all that she is fighting for. So, she hugs him back, melting into his arms, drowning in this giant man who holds her as if to hide her from the world. And for a moment, it’s as if they are the only two people who have ever existed, drifting in space, breathing in unison. Rey doesn’t pause to think what it means for her, what she feels, or what is going to happen next. She just senses the calm, and the Force, swirling lazily around them. She feels whole.

  
And then, in a split second, the moment ends, and Rey feels her arms wrap around nothing. The Force bond, cruel as ever, reminding of the rifts between them. For a second, Rey panics, and grasps onto the other end of the bond, trying to find him, wherever he went, and breathes out only when he tugs reassuringly onto the other end of the invisible thread that connects them. Rey buries her face in the palms of her hands, feeling powerless against the magnitude of that connection, which doesn’t make any sense in a world that is already chaotic, ravaged by misery and war. Kriff that, it is somehow the only thing that makes sense. What are they ever going to do?

  
\- I told you the girl was awake, - says an unfamiliar voice from the entrance to the room.  
The voice belongs to a man, who has a capital-P Presence. He’s towering and imposing, and he dominates the Force, drawing one’s attention like a light beacon. Rey immediately knows who he is. King Ja’ast, with his silver crown, braided into his hair, looks at Rey like he knows things about her that she herself has no idea of. The person he was addressing, though, is a familiar, reassuring presence.  
\- Finn! – Rey exclaims, and before she can blink, Finn’s face breaks out in a smile, and he runs towards the bed, enveloping her in a bear hug.  
\- Oh my god Rey, you scared the shit out of all of us. I’m so glad you are okay.  
\- Me too, Finn, me too, - she smiles quietly into Poe’s jacket that the former stormtrooper now never takes off. She wonders what it means for the two of them, the intimacy of an object they share. What would it be like, to share that kind of a bond with another person?  
The King does not let her pursue that line of thought, and it’s just as well, because if she did, it inevitably would have led her down the same path, to a man with shadows under his eyes and a heart split in two.  
\- Come, - Ja’ast gestures, and Rey has no choice but to obey, - Finn, you can join your friends. They are in the dining hall.

  
The King turns around and walks away into a long, dark corridor, robes swirling behind him, and Rey follows, unsure of what to expect. Ja’ast is silent, and she feels apprehensive. Whatever the challenge presented to her may be, will she be able to rise to the occasion? She can barely read the Jedi texts, let alone repair Luke’s lightsaber. Whatever her natural abilities, it sometimes feels like they control her, more than she controls them. Her footsteps echo through the palace, on the cold stone, mirroring Ja’ast’s.

  
At the end of the corridor, they reach a staircase and descend to a door, that looks out of place in the general architecture of the palace. A faint Force signature tells Rey that it’s masked from prying eyes on the outside. A servant, dressed in grey, holds out two coats – one, trimmed with fur and embellished with silver stars, for the King, the other one, Leia’s cloak, for Rey. The same servant opens the door, and a gust of cold wind fills the hallway. Outside, the snowstorm makes some snowflakes enter and melt on the stone. Rey shivers, and wraps the cloak around her tighter, wringing out at least some sense of security from Leia’s familiar force signature. Without a word, Ja’ast steps outside, and Rey follows suit. They are in the forest, with trees rising up into the sky, like columns in this temple of frozen nature. The door behind them is carved in a tree trunk. It shuts, and almost disappears in the bark of the tree. One wouldn’t know that it was there, unless they knew what they were looking for. Rey’s shoes make a creaking sound in the snow, and she is mesmerized for a moment by this unfamiliar sound. They walk like that for some time, and Rey keeps getting more and more on edge, anxious to know what the King is thinking, what the challenge will be, if she will be able to secure Jossar’s help for the Resistance. It feels almost unfair, to have all of that responsibility on her shoulders. A desert rat, out of place both in this frosty planet’s landscape and the Resistance’s run-down bases. Although Poe, and Finn, and Rose do their best to make her feel accepted, she never feels like she can open up to them. They don’t understand the Force – and to be fair, neither does she, but even more importantly, she can’t talk to them about what is worrying her. Who is worrying her. And why she can’t do anything to banish him from her thoughts.

  
The trees start to clear, and she and her silent guide are standing on a hill, overlooking a village. Stone houses, scorched by recent laser blasts and raging fire. Dark-grey clad figures are rushing around, trying to repair the damage – dismantling the debris, tinkering on the roofs. Singing. The voices barely reach Rey, but she is hypnotized by the chant – it is ancient and powerful, and with a jolt of surprise, Rey realizes that the chants channel the Force to help the Jossarians work, to make it easier and faster, without directly impacting anything physical. A stream runs on the far edge of town, and Rey feels a Dark presence there, invading the space like fog. There is even more debris there, including a damaged Tie Fighter. The stream is completely blocked. An understanding starts spreading in Rey’s gut – the King looks at her with his all-knowing silver eyes and nods. And the two begin their descent.

  
\- Can’t your people do it? – Rey breaks the silence as the weight of it becomes unbearable, adding as an afterthought - … Your Majesty.  
\- No, Jedi. We don’t use the Force the way you do. We are … guardians, more than anything else. The stream is clogged not only with debris, but with the Force from … what did that insolent boy call them? The Knights of Ren. Do you wish to back away from your trial, young Jedi?  
\- Of course not, Your Majesty.

  
Rey thinks of the “insolent boy” again. How can someone wield so much power as to resist to the Leader of the murderous First Order and be able to call him an “insolent boy” with… almost contempt? Rey thought over all the things that he inspired in her. Contempt was decidedly not on the list. Why did he not kill Ja’ast? Why did he come to Jossar in the first place and why leave, apparently empty-handed? Did Ja’ast know the answer? Rey had the feeling that asking him would be of no use, so she followed him, once again, silently, through the ruins of the village. She saw a young girl, wearing a torn coat, dragging what looked like the electronic remains of a battleship, and some discarded blasters through the paved street. She couldn’t be older than twelve standard years. Rey’s heart pained with recognition, and she snapped.

  
\- Hey! Don’t you know those blasters can be dangerous when damaged?! Take them apart before you sell them!  
Rey yanked the blasters out of her hands. The girl looked up in fear at this stranger who dared give orders, and then, when the King nodded, took the blasters from Rey, and started disassembling them with skilled but shaking gloved hands. Rey rubbed her arm instinctively, where, some years before, she learned to do the same, the hard way. The King’s mouth twitched in something like a smile.  
\- Be careful, child, and when you sell those parts, come to the palace. We will be handing out meals for those who are in need of it after the battle, for free. Ask for Jei.  
\- Yes, Your Majesty, - the girl said, barely looking up from her work, and the King nodded sagely, before continuing on the same path, leaving the child to her own devices.  
When they were out of earshot, Ja’ast said simply:  
\- Thank you. I look out for my subjects. If you hadn’t intervened, I would have done so myself.

  
Rey nodded. She hoped that all the little girls selling scraps for a living would have someone to look out for them, even if she didn’t, herself. She jumped when a whisper came through her Bond, almost like a caress: “I wish I could have”. Rey must have looked shaken because the King raised his eyebrow at her, and she had to shake her head to recover from the shock. The words felt like hope. They also felt like treason. Whose, his or hers, she couldn’t say.

  
At long last, the King led her to the bank of the stream. Several Jossarians were already getting the blockage out, disassembling the Tie Fighter, chanting, but the water still stayed still, dark and almost poisoned.  
\- It’s how they control planets that don’t want to submit, - Ja’ast offered as an explanation, - this stream joins the main water arteries of Jossar. If you control the water, you control the people.  
Rey felt anger rise in her chest. How dare they cause so much suffering in their maniacal quest for control of the Galaxy? How dare he stand by and do nothing? How dare he… encourage it… If he cares about the fate of little scavenger girls!

  
Something almost like guilt seeped through the bond, but Rey shuts it down. King Ja’ast looked at her expectantly, and she came closer to the stream, focusing on the way the Force flowed and enveloped the water, thick like a fog. Rey closes her eyes and concentrates on the Force, just like the time with Luke on Anch-Two. She reaches, and reaches, and reaches for all of the Light side that swirls somewhere under the surface, some stones and debris lift into the air, the chants of the Jossarians become more intense and rise up into the air, and just as she is about to touch it and rid the stream of its problems, the Bond bursts open. Rey’s consciousness becomes filled with a mind that is not her own. He’s meditating, in his quarters, but his presence is enough to make Rey falter. She’s overwhelmed with sensations – two heartbeats echo in her skull, two chests rising, and his Darkness mixes with her Light. Rey twitches, and directs some of the debris away from the river. They fall nearby, barely missing some of the workers. Their chant falters. Rey looks onto the water, trying to ignore Kylo’s presence. There is still the Tie Fighter blocking the stream, as well as the ever-present Dark side poison. It doesn’t belong to Kylo, she’s sure of it, but his signature is distracting, and Rey grits her teeth. He won’t ruin this for her. She won’t let him ruin this for her.  
His eyes snap open, and look into hers, calmly. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t comment on what she is trying to do. He just sighs a tired sigh, and leans back, presumably against his bed, just watching. It’s worse than anything else, this observation. He doesn’t even think anything. Just looking. No, admiring.

  
Anger rises up in Rey’s chest, along with something else and she squanders it, violently, refocusing on the Tie Fighter. It trembles, but doesn’t budge. The King’s stern look makes her even more anxious, and Kylo’s presence – right now, he is Kylo, she decides – doesn’t help. She directs even more energy to the Tie Fighter, trembling with emotion, and manages to guide it away from the stream, accompanied by the chants, and feels almost triumph until she meets Kylo’s smirk, and she nearly drops it. Finally, it reaches ground. Final stretch – the Force, that needs to be healed. Rey feels a bit apprehensive and out of breath. She reaches out, and out, to the Light in the Darkness, and it starts thinning, moving out of the way, but after a few moments, stays at the same consistency, barely allowing any water passage, no matter how hard she focuses her efforts on places where the water and the Force are creating thick dark nodes. Kylo’s smirk becomes gloating, his defenses up. No trace of the man who held her tight in his arms just half an hour ago. Rey feels anger bubble up in her once again, and then the bastard decides to speak.

  
\- I didn’t doubt you could clear the debris, but this part requires a bit more skill.  
Rey grits her teeth, set on ignoring him.  
\- Do you want me to tell you how to do it? I can teach you.

  
Rey still doesn’t respond, battling with the Dark stream of the Force that refuses to budge. It’s insufferable, and Rey’s frustration reaches unknown heights. Her own Darkness tugs at the back of her mind, and she has to refocus on keeping it at bay. This allows to the thick, viscous poison to retake the parts that she had cleared. Her arms starts to shake, her breath falters, tears prickle at her eyes, she is losing this battle, she is going to fail, she isn’t good enough to be a Jedi and she feels like she might –

  
\- Well, do you? – his voice is taunting, and Rey’s darkness erupts from inside of her, uncontrolled, uncontrollable, powerful.  
\- NO! – her scream rips through the air, interrupts the sonorous chanting of the Jossarians, and for a moment, the whole planet belongs to her. It’s intoxicating.

  
Rey comes to her senses in mid-air, hovering above the stream, above the snow, the debris and the grey-clad toiling villagers, above the King, the Force coursing through her veins, Dark and all-consuming. There is an explosion, and the Dark of the stream becomes replaced with her Force, and water rushes through, clear and untarnished. A moment of triumph, and Rey collapses onto the ground, tears threatening to fall at any moment. The Jossarians only stare at her, in fear.

  
\- She is too strong in the Dark side, – whispers one of them, clad in a military uniform, to the King, as the realization of what she has done and how dawns upon Rey.  
\- Yes, yes, she is, - replies Ja’ast, looking straight at her, a hint of what seems to be like an all-knowing smile on his lips, - we can’t compromise our position in the Galaxy to help you.

  
On his side of the Bond, Kylo Ren smiles, in what seems like genuine awe, with a hint of triumph. When Ja’ast leads Rey silently back to the palace to meet her Resistance friends, and when Finn looks at her expectantly, hopefully, she bursts into tears, punching her fists into one of the cold stone walls until her friend grabs her into his arms, stilling her in a hug that is poisoned by anger and disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To the three people who care that I decided to continue this story - thank you.  
> I genuinely planned to work on this regularly, but then 2020 happened, and I wrote nothing at all, not only for this, in like a year.  
> I have the whole thing planned out now, so I am going to try and update it semi-regularly.  
> \- yours truly


	4. IV

On the Starkiller base, Kylo Ren wakes up with a headache. He was dreaming of _her_ again. He couldn’t tell where they were, but wherever it was, he was at peace, laying on the grass, with her head resting on his chest, her hand trailing the length of the scar that splits his face in half. He tries to go back to sleep, but it doesn’t come. Begrudgingly, he opens his eyes again, confronted by his reflection in the window that overlooks the vast void of space, a star dying below the First Order command center. The scar is still there, a constant reminder of his soul being split in half. Is _he_ the one to turn in the visions he keeps having? He imagines himself showing up at a Resistance base in a stolen Tie fighter and being met with… reproach. Contempt, probably. Relief, from his mother. Reprimands and trials for all he’s done. The thought alone makes bile rise in his throat. It’s impossible, he just … can’t. The happiness his dreams offer is incompatible with reality.

He summons a droid and asks for an alcoholic beverage, the strongest there is, he doesn’t care which one. The droid beeps, disappears, and comes back with a glass of semi-transparent liquid. It burns in his throat and it feels almost good, almost like a punishment. He finishes it, and after a couple of moments, asks for another. The droid beeps something about a meeting that Hux is holding that day, until Ren snaps and jabs the blasted piece of metal with his lightsaber, leaving an angry trace on the robot’s body. The droid beeps out some words of apology, and scurries away, coming back with another glass. Kylo picks up a data pad, looking up the meeting the droid mentioned, and his mood sours even more. Kriff. Nothing to make one feel better than the disdain that shows more and more every day on the orange bastard’s face. Kylo guesses than if that man was less of a coward, he would organize a coup any day now. And probably damn the galaxy to eternal war.

He thinks for a couple of moments on his position within the First Order. He has all the power being the Supreme Leader entails, yet he feels that power is fragile, fracturing more and more every day. More so whenever he pushes for liberalization of laws in the Order-controlled sectors of the Galaxy. When he refused to collect the extortionist taxes Snoke had placed on Naboo that had caused a planet-wide famine, Hux _snarled_ in his face. Was he aware that alleviating the grip on Naboo was practically asking for a rebellion? Yes, yes, he was, but thinking of corpses with stomachs inflated from prolonged starvation on the green planet where he spent some of his childhood felt like too high a price to pay. “Where, exactly, are the Supreme Leader’s loyalties?” – was Hux’s retort. Good question, Kylo chuckled dryly. Where were they? Definitely not Snoke’s perverse vision for the Galaxy, he knew that much. Definitely not the Resistance, either. All those self-righteous, unbending people who couldn’t see the world in anything but black and white… For all he cared, they all could… no, that wasn’t exactly right. Was his loyalty to his own self-interest? The thought made Kylo snort to himself. No, he didn’t care what happens to him. His prior actions made sure that none of it be good, and his time with the… voices in his head… That. That made sure he wasn’t capable of _wanting_ much, either. Except for… No, he wouldn’t think of her. His meager hope of bringing peace to the Galaxy with her by his side died in the Throne Room, shortly after Snoke’s body was split in two. He felt like he was floating in space, with no purpose, and no oxygen to breathe. A lost soul. Weak, incapable of doing anything right. Very well then. So it is.

He gets up, putting an end to this particular train of thought, and directs his steps towards the fresher. The water is scalding hot and he takes pleasure in this luxury that comes from being the Supreme Leader. He imagines a certain desert rat would very much enjoy to do the same, but she chose her loyalties, and so he wouldn’t concern himself with her. He wouldn’t. Except that it would have been nice to have her naked beside him, in the shower. Very, very nice. He wouldn’t even want to do much, just … wash away the blood, and the dirt, and the sand. Make her relax, make her forget her problems. Make her… Displeased with where his thoughts have taken him, yet again, he turns off the water abruptly.

He steps out of the shower, and puts on a dark bathrobe. Over the black tiles of the fresher, his own face hovers in the mirror, ghastly pale against his hair and his clothes. He looks like a ghost. With blue under his eyes and an angry red scar bisecting his features. A study in color. Ink on a page. He thinks of a calligraphy set he used to have as a teenager. He would just write anything he could on a nice piece of paper, ink spreading freely, contrasting with the pure white of the untarnished page. His mother… she gave him rare red ink from some backwater planet as a gift for his birthday, and in his memories, the spread of the ink on the page reminded him too much of blood staining snow, staining salt.

The shower helped with his headache, along with the alcohol, and his body feels heavy and almost sleepy, and he directs it towards his closet. Uniform, black. Black trousers, black vest. He starts putting on his clothes with deliberation, punctuating each button, trying to find some control in that simple every day action. He is fastening the buttons on his jacket when he feels a change in the Force, and the Bond fizzles and comes to life. This time, the view the Force offers to Rey of his pale chest is not as expansive as before, but she still seems to blush and averts her eyes. Sitting on the floors near the illuminator, she looks troubled. Her eyes are red like she had been crying, and she doesn’t look much better than he does, if he is honest. Still beautiful though. Always, heart wrenchingly beautiful, and strong. She doesn’t say anything, but through the Force he feels that she wants to ask him something. He can’t tell where she is, but judging by her casual posture and the Jedi scroll she holds in her hands, he supposes its somewhere like a Resistance base.

He finishes putting his clothes on. Buttons done all the way up to his throat. Black leather boots pulled onto his feet. He straps his lightsaber to his belt. Puts on his black leather gloves. She watches him from the corner of her eye, silent. She isn’t reading. She is chewing on what looks like fresh fruit, though he can’t tell which planet that is from. Juice runs down her chin, and down her fingers, and she licks it away. Kylo’s breath hitches in his throat. It’s not fair, the effect that she has on him. A scavenger who stole him away entirely, body and soul.

\- Well? – she breaks the silence, angrily, expectantly. There is no softness left from their previous connection, and he misses that moment immediately, the pleasure of _feeling_ her, alive, after spending _way too much time_ thinking she was gone. When Kylo doesn’t find a response, she follows up with, - Are you going to continue staring or are you going to say something?

\- Is there something… - the words come out cruel out of his mouth so he pauses, and collects himself. In a softer, almost pleading tone, he says, - is there something you want me to say?

He sees her take in a sharp breath. Her eyes glisten and she looks like she might cry. He had never seen her so… defeated before. Before he can stop himself, he approaches the part of his chambers that she now takes up with her presence. He crouches beside her, and passes a gloved hand under her eyes to dry her tears and she shrinks away from him, instinctively.

\- What did I do, again? – he almost whispers, softly, as if dealing with a wounded animal, because that is what she is like, right now. His desert rat. His Rey of light.

\- What did you do? _What did you do?!_ – she chuckles bitterly, - all of my problems are because of _you_. You ruined the Resistance’s hope of survival, that’s what you did. But you already knew that. You _made_ me fail them. And you dare ask me what you did!

\- And yet the Resistance is still hiding on some planet somewhere, - his tone becomes cold in an instant, - and you with them. If my priority was having you all gone, you all would have been by now.

\- Maybe you just can’t do it, - she stares at him for a second, undecipherable, harsh, angry.

He just laughs, sadly, because, really, what is there to say? Hux is the one hunting the resistance. Completely ineptly, too. So, both of them are right, in a way. After a moment, he asks.

\- How did I ruin your precious Resistance, again? – and this time he is sincere.

\- You knew what I was trying to do on Jossar and you ruined it! Oh. So that’s what it is about. He really wasn’t expecting it. He would have expected her to be… grateful, out of all things. - Hasn’t anyone taught you how to say “thank you” on Jakku?

\- Am I supposed to be grateful to you? - You cleared that stream, _thanks to me_. Thanks to your _anger,_ \- he corrects himself. – You succeeded. Doesn’t that count?

\- No! – she lashes out, and he steps back, because, _kriff,_ she is serious about this. – They said I had too much darkness in me! That’s who you bring out in me! I wish I’d never set eyes on you.

Kylo is taken aback. He did not expect this from the Jossarians. Them needing a Force user to clear the stream? It was only a matter of time. Them chiding the said Force user for being too Dark? Interesting.

\- I did not expect Ja’ast to do that, - he says, sincerely. – And he doesn’t seem like the type to refuse people who are in the right when they require help.

At the last part, a hint of a smile plays on his lips. So, the score in still First Order zero, Resistance zero. No one wins the Jossarians over. The battle continues. The show must go on. Rey looks like she might slap him, but apparently, decides against it. They stay in dead, uncomfortable silence for a couple of minutes. That is, if you don’t count the pure… lightness in his entire being he feels at seeing her there. Alive. In one piece. As well as she could be, under the circumstances. He marvels at that for a while, until…

\- How did you know I was on Jossar? – she asks the question that had been apparently gnawing at her for a while. – I thought you can’t see where I am.

\- I can’t. You were wearing my mother’s coat. There was snow and ash on it. Jossar could only ask a Jedi to clear the stream or die from draught, and there isn’t many running around the Galaxy right now. I just put two and two together.

\- Oh, - she gives him a look that isn’t hostile, a first for this … connection.

There. An honest answer. That should … That should show her he _cares_. He still cares. He can’t not care. He can’t. All he wants is to hold her again. Stars, let him hold her again and then he can die. Hux can have him shot. Hux can have him hung. Hux can have all of his Knights of Ren stab him with lightsabers at once. After he holds her again.

He must have stared too intently and projected some of that through the Bond to her because she looks flushed, and he might have imagined it, but she seems to reach for him. That breaks him, breaks the distinction between the Kylo Ren that he is and the Ben Solo she wants him to be, and the two bleed into each other.

\- I was only showing you how to do it. You can’t heal that kind of Force disturbance with the Light. Even if my methods are… unconventional, - he chuckles, but there is no bite to it, … the way you access the Dark side, through your anger. It’s incredible.

He reaches to push a stray strand of hair out of her face.

\- Maybe _you_ just don’t know how to do it with the Light. Maybe I… - her voice catches.

\- It’s _not_ your failing, - he snaps, and he is suddenly angry at the Jossarians, deceiving her, giving some sham reason to not help her precious Resistance… It’s not fair for her to be pushed around by those with knowledge, just like he was. - check your books if you don’t believe me.

Something in his voice convinces her, because she is reaching for him, buries her face in his chest and just cries. He just holds her, letting her let her defenses down in front of him. He doesn’t deserve her trust, and yet he has it. He isn’t a good man, he knows it. He isn’t the one she needs. But today, with the darkness of space, illuminated by a dying star up close, its plasma swirling and bathing the room in a bright otherworldly glow, he is going to try to be. When the Bond cuts off, as it always does, he has to change his jacket, because it is soaked with her tears. They should learn to control the connections, he thinks to himself, belatedly. They really, really should.

* * *

When Supreme Leader Ren’s footsteps echo through the Starkiller base in a studied, unhurried rhythm, he is composed again. He isn’t thinking about Rey, or about how he is not playing for either side anymore. Not about how all he does, lately, is with her in mind.

His fist clenches his lightsaber until his knuckles strain against the black leather of his gloves, and he catches his reflection in one of the illuminators, and in the glossy black floors. He doesn’t know who he is anymore, and thinking about the meeting with Hux puts him on edge. A small group of Stormtroopers are whispering about something a couple of feet ahead, and he draws the lightsaber out just a little bit. They flinch, and shut up, reorganizing their ranks, saluting their Leader. He smiles to himself. At least some people on this ship still respect him.

He arrives on the bridge early and has time to stare into the heart of the star that provides energy for the base. Violent, angry, beautiful. Like so many things in his life lately. He marvels at it for a moment, the stillness and the destruction. But of course, Hux has to arrive and interrupt him.

\- Supreme Leader. – his voice is cold, and has a hint of contempt that he hadn’t bothered to hide.

\- General Hux. – Kylo responds with slight annoyance. He wonders why Hux hadn’t tried to arrange a coup yet. That acerbic, uptight ginger is a ticking bomb if he had ever seen one. Yet another reason for him to never sleep at night.

\- I have the news from our spies concerning Jossar, Supreme Leader. I’m sure you are aware they… aren’t favorable. – the ginger, stars bless him, braces for a lash-out.

\- Not favorable? – Kylo interrogates him, approaching slowly and deliberately with what he hopes is a menacing stance.

\- No, Sir, - the weasel gulps, and, _stars_ , Kylo enjoys being able to make the cowardly, power-hungry bastard squirm while he still can, - It appears that Ja’ast got the Jedi to clear the stream. Jossar had clean water again, and we have no leverage to proceed with our plans for a siege anymore.

\- Oh? – Kylo can’t help but trap the General in a light Force Choke, extending his arm and staring him down, and by the end of his sentence, his voice escalates to a shout - I suppose you are going to tell me that Jossar has joined the Resistance next?!

\- No, Sir, we… did not let that happen.

\- Good.

It almost makes Kylo laugh, knowing what he does now. Did not let that happen? How can he pretend he has any control over that planet? Still, he releases Hux, whose shoulders slump for a second. His mask falls, and Kylo can see the disdain plainly written on his face. It says “Soon, I won’t have to bear this anymore”. It surprises Kylo, this certain knowledge that Hux has already concocted a plot. Shame Hux isn’t Force-sensitive, because it seems like Kylo would have had some competition for Snoke’s heir-apparent. He almost wants to read Hux’s mind to find out the details, but, truth be told, he can’t be bothered. It’s probably too advanced to die out without Hux as the leader anyway. Kylo is resigned to die, having done as much as he can to help Rey survive this war. After him, the flood can come. In the end, whether you are with the Light or the Dark, the conflict never ends. It’s nihilistic, but he has no reason to hope otherwise, ever since Rey refused to take his hand.

\- Any other developments with the Resistance? – he asks.

\- Yes, Sir.

Every time there is news, Kylo can’t stop his heart from skipping a beat. He is afraid he might hear of her death. Or excited that he might find where she is. At the same time. The overall emotion is intoxicating.

\- Well? Tell me, Hux!

\- The planet Hasabos is rumored to be full of rebel sympathizers, Sir.

\- Didn’t we wipe out all of the rebel scum from the Galaxy, Hux? Except from the small band of the Jedi? – Kylo raises his hand again, the threat always underlying the gesture.

\- Yes, but, Sir… - Hux gulps, and it’s evident that he is bracing himself to make a suggestion to a violent and volatile Supreme reader. His next phrase has Kylo wishing he could go back on his previous words. – Sir, with all due respect to your strategy… This poses a real danger to the Order. I think we need… we need to send a message to the Galaxy. The same one we sent with Hosnian Prime. We need to show these rebels that those who oppose the First Order will end up obliterated by Starkiller’s energy.

“More destruction. Is that the message that we want to send to the Galaxy we wish to rule?” – is what Kylo wants to say in response. Instead, he bites his tongue until he tastes the metallic tang of blood. Instead, his response is cold and curt.

\- No.

\- But Sir, - Hux starts to speak, and this finally tips Kylo over the edge.

\- Do you pretend, General, that you can give orders to your Supreme Leader?!

\- No, Sir, but…

\- Then shut your filthy mouth and obey!

\- Yes, Sir. Is that all, Sir?

\- Yes. You may leave.

Kylo turns around, and listens to Hux’s steps moving towards the exit. And then he hears him mutter “Supreme Leader, pretending to hold the power like a son does when the adults are away” half-whispered in the Force. And he shocks Hux with a burst of lightning.

A scream fills the space, and Kylo approaches to Hux’s body, contorting in agony in the mid-air.

\- I am your Leader, whether you like it or not! I do not care for your life, Hux, so please, remember: next time I might choose to end it.

Hux drops to the floor, and Kylo is almost compelled to finish him. But he finds he doesn’t want to. Instead, he storms off to his quarters, leaving Hux heaving, red-faced and smelling of burning flesh lying in a heap. He wants to find out what the ginger weasel does with that little coup of his. Kylo half-hopes it would end the agony of his continued existence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was fully intending to update this last week, by the way, but got a pretty bad strep throat and spent four days in bed. Sorry.  
> Writing Kylo's POV is fun. Having him torture Hux is fun. Also part of this is mostly to fill a plothole I inadvertently created, and have Kylo and Rey bond a bit. He really only cares about her now ;')


End file.
